


Pancakes at The Elbow Room

by youwilllovemylaugh



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Body Worship, Boys In Love, Breakfast, Chubby Katsuki Yuuri, Chubby Kink, Cuddling & Snuggling, Doting Viktor, Eating, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Honeymoon, M/M, Post-Canon, Romance, Sleepy Cuddles, viktor nikiforov is a wistful bastard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 19:40:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9139321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youwilllovemylaugh/pseuds/youwilllovemylaugh
Summary: "He was a fireplace of bliss, his heart a fire and his chest a glass enclosure built for everyone to see. Public life had never been hard for Viktor, but this marriage, this love he had for Yuuri, this pride he had in himself -- it all felt exponentially more natural than it ever had before. This was real."





	

Sunrise light was Viktor’s favorite way to look at Yuuri. It fell soft on Yuuri’s careful features, gentle in the same way Viktor felt when Yuuri’s lips landed on his. A careful whisper of something Viktor felt exhilarated by, something he didn’t want to acknowledge too openly, out of fear that it would skate out of his hands.

The sun belonged to Vancouver skies. It was the start of their first full day in the city and Viktor had, as usual, fallen prey to jet lag. He’d tossed and turned all night, but instead of the rapid-fire thought sequence that usually haunted him, he’d felt an old ache in his muscles, a physical exhaustion he knew he hadn’t really earned. The flight out here had been long and cramped — Yuuri, bless his heart, had fallen asleep on Viktor barely thirty minutes into the fourteen-hour flight, and though Viktor had been loath to move in fear that he’d wake his drowsy husband, he sorely regretted not at least trying gently to shift Yuuri over. As a result, his shoulders were cramped, his knees ached in a way only Yakov had warned of, and his arms felt too weak even to move the pillow beneath his head.

So he stared at Yuuri. They had drifted in the night, and Yuuri was as far to the opposite side of the bed as he could be without tipping over the edge. He slept all curled up — which Viktor couldn’t believe was real, it was so cute — and he’d pulled the blanket all the way up to the tip of his nose. He breathed in the steady, even way of a person who was so wholly comfortable, he had managed to expel all negative thoughts from his mind. Viktor had seen him sleep before — with Yuuri, it was harder not to find him sleeping — but this was new. This was easiness on a whole other level, a way deeper and less bashful than Viktor had yet seen.

Their wedding had been only two days earlier — maybe even less than that, Viktor thought, but in his sleeplessness-addled brain, he couldn’t figure a proper calculation of the time difference between Vancouver and Hasetsu. He was a fireplace of bliss, his heart a fire and his chest a glass enclosure built for everyone to see. Public life had never been hard for Viktor, but this marriage, this love he had for Yuuri, this pride he had in himself — it all felt exponentially more natural than it ever had before. This was real.

It didn’t look real, in their bed, though. Really, it looked surreal to see Yuuri looking so beautiful even as he was asleep. Viktor reached over and touched a delicate hand to Yuuri’s temple, brushed away the lock of hair that fell across his brow. Yuuri didn’t stir.

_ A rock _ , Viktor thought to himself.  _ He’s dead to the world. _ Viktor grinned, though no one was there to see. Maybe he’d tease Yuuri about this later —  _ I knew you were a heavy eater, but a heavy _ sleeper _ too? _ — he could almost imagine the blush rise on Yuuri’s cheeks, the sheepish curl of his lip.

Viktor sat up. The ache in his muscles was just enough to keep him from sleeping, and he knew that continuing to lie there hoping was futile. Yuuri had pulled all the blankets to his side of the bed in his unconscious swaddling, so Viktor slipped his calves from under the remaining sheets and slid his feet into his slippers. 

Yuuri’s hair was tousled from sleep. Standing over him, Viktor thought it looked the same way it had the other day, the way that made Yuuri blush because  _ he’d  _ thought it made him look like he was trying to be too edgy. Viktor had only giggled — it was also the way Yuuri looked when he came off the ice, a little sweaty, windswept, flushed. Viktor would recognize that look anywhere. 

There was more room on Yuuri’s side of the bed, by the window, so Viktor used the space to stretch there. It had been a long time since he'd felt this sore. Perhaps the last time, he thought, was after the banquet his last year competing. 

He glanced at Yuuri, still blissfully unaware of everything, and smiled to himself about how much had changed since then. It was over a year ago, now, but Viktor still remembered the hollow ringing in his ears when he’d flopped on his bed at the end of that night, half from echoes of the music in the dance hall, half from the rhythmic pounding of his heart, still not fully caught up from the shock of Yuuri suddenly being so close. He remembered realizing how empty he’d been before then, for such a seemingly meaningless interaction to clatter around inside him so loudly. He remembered the anxiety that came along with that shred of hope Yuuri had given him, the way it started to tear at his heart in a way Viktor definitely didn’t want to trust.

Now, though, Viktor would choose the loving ache in his heart a million times before he chose the tired ache in his muscles. He would choose that exhilaration over and over and over again, if it meant he wouldn’t ever feel so isolated as he had before he’d met Yuuri.

The sun had begun to rise in earnest now, so Viktor transitioned from his usual stretches to sun salutations, pointing his steepled fingers as high toward the ceiling and as low to the ground as his crampy shoulders would let him. 

On his fourth rotation, he caught Yuuri awake, watching him from his curled up spot on the bed. He pretended not to notice, but he felt himself get lightheaded on his way down to his toes, his heart fluttering like a piccolo trill, enjoying the secret attention. 

When he sprang up again, he leapt into the air and landed on the bed beside Yuuri, who giggled as he bounced under Viktor’s added weight.

“Hi,” Yuuri said, the blankets still pulled tight under his chin.

“Hi,” Viktor repeated. The way he’d landed, most of his body was still hanging off the edge of the bed, and he balanced himself by wrapping his arms around Yuuri’s torso. He propelled himself up a little bit to reach Yuuri’s lips, and as he did so, Yuuri pulled him up onto the bed on top of him.

“You’re up early,” Yuuri said.

“And you, as usual, are Спящая красавица.” He grinned, but Yuuri only frowned at him, so he added, “You’re lucky I think you’re cute when you’re asleep.” That softened the dent between Yuuri’s brows, so Viktor lifted his hand to cradle Yuuri’s face, used his thumb to stroke the line of his cheekbone. 

“How long have I been out for?”   


“Should I count the twelve and a half hours you spent asleep on me on the plane here?” Viktor asked, and Yuuri huffed at him.

“You’d be sleepy too, if you were a normal person,” Yuuri replied. Viktor felt Yuuri’s hand run up the length of his back, then down it again to rest in the little dip between his ribs and his hips. “Seriously, I don’t know how you’re still alive.”

It was Viktor’s turn to scoff. “Sheer force of will, perhaps?” he said, and when Yuuri laughed in acceptance of his answer, Viktor felt sure that Yuuri was a lot of the reason he’d even stuck around  _ this _ long.

For that, he was grateful.

“What do you want to do today?” Yuuri asked Viktor. He looked out the window rather suddenly then, and asked, “Is it even daytime?” 

Viktor laughed, a real belly laugh that seemed to radiate from the place where their stomachs touched. “Yes, it is around sunrise. Maybe just after.”

“So, breakfast is in order,” Yuuri said.

“I suppose it is,” Viktor said. He rolled off Yuuri then, and reached across the remaining part of the mattress for his phone. “Shall we find a place to go?”

They spent the next few minutes looking for breakfast places around downtown, scrolling through the menus of at least a dozen restaurants within a three-block radius on Yelp. Yuuri, Viktor could hear, was too hungry, and therefore unwilling, to travel too far for breakfast. His stomach growled more than once before they reached the third page of restaurants.

“My gosh,” Viktor said after Yuuri’s stomach growled for the fourth time. “This is what happens when you sleep for 36 hours, huh?” He reached his free hand under the covers and wormed his way beneath Yuuri’s shirt to rub his belly, teasing.

“It was  _ not _ 36 hours,” Yuuri said.”

“Maybe not 36  _ consecutive _ hours,” Viktor replied.

“Oh, come on,” Yuuri whined. “Let’s just find a place to go eat so I can stop starving.”

Viktor giggled again, watching Yuuri’s face dissolve into a little pout, and felt a swell of fondness bloom in his chest. Yuuri was so precious to him, even when he whined, even when he was asleep, even when they teased each other. It took everything Viktor had not to climb back on top of Yuuri and distract him for even longer, with kisses and teasing and snuggling, whispering about how much love he felt into Yuuri’s ear.

“How about this place?” Viktor showed Yuuri his screen, which displayed a menu for The Elbow Room Cafe. “We can sit in a booth and nudge each other the entire morning.”   


Yuuri scanned the page, then said, “Whatever — this place looks good — we just need to  _ get there _ .”

Viktor grinned, feeling a blush come over his face, and he kissed Yuuri on the crown of his head. “Let’s dress, then.”

They bundled up — it was still wintry in Vancouver this time of year, chillier than it would have been in Hasetsu, where they’d come from, but not as chilly as St. Petersburg, where Viktor had all but fled after the Grand Prix Final. The chill outside was nothing compared to that.

Yuuri buried his face deep in the huge scarf he’d bought when they were in Russia last. Between it and his hat, when he spoke, Viktor had to lean in close to understand him.

“I’m freezing,” Yuuri murmured, hunching his shoulders. “This is what happens when I don’t eat enough.”

Viktor laughed. He wore his usual scarf and no hat, enjoying the wind blowing through his hair. “If there were a way I could feed you while you slept, мой клецки, I would have tried it.”

Yuuri’s eyes twinkled behind his glasses. He slid an arm through Viktor’s, and hooked him closer, putting his own hand back in his pocket.

The walk to Elbow Room was short, though freezing, and when they got inside, the tip of Yuuri’s nose was bright red. 

Viktor giggled. “You look like the reindeer.” 

“Hmm?” Yuuri was already perusing the menu.

“The reindeer,” Viktor repeated. He slid his own menu closer to him. “You know, the one —” He began to hum a few bars from the eponymous song.

Yuuri touched his nose with a still-gloved hand. “Oh,” he said, and Viktor laughed again. “We can’t all be princes of winter like you.”

“Some people might argue you that.”

Viktor caught Yuuri’s eyes as they flitted over the top of his menu. He was laughing, Viktor could tell, but he also looked a teensy bit embarrassed.

Their waitress appeared before Viktor could ask what Yuuri was going to order, like he usually did when they went out. “Can I take your order?” she asked.

Yuuri, without looking at Viktor, said, “I’ll have the Soheil omelet.” She wrote it down, and then, before she could turn to Viktor, Yuuri continued, “And the twelve-inch buttermilk pancake.”

Both Viktor and the waitress looked at Yuuri in half-alarm. She caught herself faster, writing down his order quickly. “Okay, the Soheil and one big-ass for you.”

Viktor nearly choked.

“And you?” she asked, but Viktor hadn’t yet recovered his cognizance.

Or decided what he wanted to order. “Uh, I’ll have the same,” he said, in a thin voice. He handed the waitress the menu before she could react, and then he added, “And two cups of coffee, please, with cream and sugar.”

She nodded, scribbling on her pad, and then she disappeared without a word.

Yuuri leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. His ring glinted in the sunlight streaming in through the windows behind Viktor. “Do you want a big-ass too?” 

Viktor pretended to pout, but really, he felt like he was about to burst. 

“Are you hungry too?” Yuuri asked.

“Hungry?” Viktor said. He felt lightheaded.  “I guess.”

“You guess?” Yuuri laughed. “You order that with just a little hungry feeling?” 

Viktor stared, gaping at him. “I mean. I — I didn’t, think about it? When you ordered?”

Yuuri giggled. “But  _ I _ was hungry.” His voice lilted, like he was teasing. Viktor sat back in the booth. He watched as Yuuri unfolded his hands to rest his chin on one, smiling slyly as he did so. He looked warm in a way that might have been slightly dangerous, channelling that same part of his brain that put sultry in his eyes, that made it possible for him to skate the Eros routine in the first place. 

Viktor felt himself blush again, from somewhere deep inside his chest. 

“You like it when I eat, don’t you,” Yuuri asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Well…” Viktor  _ had _ liked the little roll of pudge Yuuri had grown in the last couple of weeks. It had appeared quickly, like it had been eagerly waiting to return at the next possible opportunity. Viktor  _ did _ like how warm it was, at night when they were sleeping, or in the afternoon when they were snuggling on the couch. He loved feeling how squishy it was beneath his fingers, teasing Yuuri about it by drumming on it when he least expected. 

So, yeah, Viktor supposed he would, therefore, like that Yuuri ate so much. 

Yuuri was still smiling at him, but he said nothing else until their coffee arrived. “What do you want to do today? We have ten days all to ourselves here, so maybe we should figure it out.”

Viktor swirled the cream in his coffee. “There’s the aquarium, the Science World, the VanDusen Botanical Garden…” Viktor looked up at Yuuri through his eyelashes. “We could look at them.” 

“All four at once?”

“No,” Viktor said, giggling. “I’m just making suggestions.” 

Two waiters arrived then, carrying four plates of food. 

“Two Soheil omelets, and two big-ass pancakes?” the waiter said as he set down the two plates he held — one of each for Yuuri. The pancake was as wide and round as Viktor had predicted it would be, and perfectly browned on top. On the side of the plate were three small glass dishes, one each of whipped cream, syrup, and frothy butter. The Soheil smelled strongly of cheese, but the combination of that and the buttery pancakes only made Viktor’s mouth start to water. 

“Thanks,” Yuuri said, and somehow Viktor knew he’d known to reply because Viktor had been too distracted to. 

He said nothing else, however, as he grabbed up his fork and knife and began to eat with such fervor Viktor felt himself growing embarrassed. 

“Hey,” he said, tenderly as he could manage. Yuuri cast a pair of unrelentingly curious eyes at him. “Slow down, would you? There is no rush to get you fed.”

The corners of Yuuri’s mouth turned up slightly.

“Besides,” Viktor continued, “if you eat too fast, we both know you’re gonna land us back at the hotel while you sleep off your too-full belly.”

Yuuri swallowed the bite of food in his mouth. “You know, I can do more besides eat and sleep.”

“Prove it?” 

The words left Viktor’s mouth tentatively, but he made sure as Yuuri looked up from his plate to raise an eyebrow in such a way that ensured Yuuri knew he wasn’t really kidding. 

He knew Yuuri. He knew his husband. He would never pass up a challenge. 

“Fine,” Yuuri said, predictably. “Let's say that if you finish first, we go to the Science World and walk around.”

“And if you finish first?” Viktor felt light, exhilarated. His hands nearly twitched over his fork. Yuuri had a head start, but that didn't mean Viktor couldn't still beat him. 

Yuuri leaned in close. Viktor felt his breath catch. “You take me back to the hotel and show me how impressed you are with your winner.” 

For once, Viktor didn’t want to win. 

“I’ll only kiss you if you get a gold medal,” Viktor said, and Yuuri grinned ruefully at him. It was his competitive streak at play — he realized that, if he won, they'd go out, and he'd get to watch Yuuri try to cover up his protruding belly as they walked around; if he lost, he'd get to rub it till they fell asleep again, likely waking in time for their next meal, to start the whole cycle over. 

Viktor smiled at Yuuri, who seemed impatient to eat now. “Deal,” he said, and Yuuri immediately dug in.  _ Best deal I ever made _ , Viktor thought as he, too, picked up his fork and began to eat. 


End file.
